


Desperation

by Clicks



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 15:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16043147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clicks/pseuds/Clicks
Summary: People are fragile things, you should know by now.





	Desperation

**Author's Note:**

> In this room, they can forget their worries, if only for a moment.

“Ah! Dor- Dorian. . .”

“There it is. Breathe, amatus, I have you.”

The whisper of silk was surprisingly loud in the Inquisitor’s bedchambers, the rustling accentuating the sound of Lavellan’s breathless gasps. His hands grasped at Dorian’s shoulders, and he buried his face in the mage’s neck when Dorian leaned down to pepper feather light kisses against his face, his eyes, his lips. The sounds of Skyhold drifted in through the open windows; Cullen, shouting orders at eager-eyed recruits, the steady _thwack_ , _thwack_ sound of dulled swords hitting the training dummies in the courtyards. Lavellan took a breath, face still hidden against Dorian’s skin, shuddering on the exhale. Everything was as it should be.

“Amatus? Vaetu? You’re crying. Am I hurting you?”

Dorian shifted, beginning to pull away, but the feeling of Lavellan’s fingers digging into his shoulders stopped him. Lavellan spoke into his skin, voice incoherent and muffled, and Dorian felt the slender elf’s body trembling around him. He stroked the smaller man’s hair, waiting until the tremors subsided, and then gently lifted Lavellan’s head from his neck, forcing the elf to meet his eyes. Dorian’s thumbs traced the wet spots beneath the Inquisitor’s eyes, and he watched as they slipped closed.

“Speak to me, sweetness. What’s the matter?”

Lavellan shuddered again at the sound of Dorian’s voice, but managed to speak, his own voice coming out thin and reedy, “Dorian, we- we almost lost you. _I_ almost lost you. How are you so calm?”

Dorian gave a soft sigh, kissing the top of his lover’s head before looking at the elf’s face again. Lavellan’s eyes were red and watery, his breaths hitching on the inhale.

“I’m safe, now, and that’s all that matters. It does neither of us any good to dwell on the what could have been.”

“You say that, but what about me? I had to watch that giant pick you up and throw you, thinking that I was going to lose the best thing in my life. That’s not something I can just forget.”

Dorian remained silent for a moment, and then shifted, pulling away from Lavellan. He kept his eyes on the smaller man’s face, unwavering, as he paused before pushing back into the Inquisitor’s body, watching the other man’s expressions.

“I’m still here with you. You can feel me, can’t you, Amatus? I’m safe, and I’m not leaving you.”

Dorian gently pushed Lavellan’s body down into the mattress, and began moving in slow, deep thrusts that had the Inquisitor crying aloud, his moans and gasps ringing above the sounds coming in through the open windows. Tears still glistened on the elf’s cheekbones, and Dorian kissed them away, his lips making a path from his lover’s cheeks, to the pointed tips of his ears, before finding his way back to the elf’s lips. He kissed like he made love, licking a slow map of Lavellan’s mouth, and giving a soft chuckle when he felt the other man whimper at a particularly deep thrust.

“Dorian, can I-?”

Lavellan paused mid-sentence, and Dorian slowed his movements, stopping completely when he saw the blush spreading across Lavellan’s face, and giving him a questioning look.

“What is it, amatus? What's wrong?”

Lavellan shifted, and Dorian fought to keep a straight face at the feeling of the other man clenching around him.

“I want. . . Let me make you feel good.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow, but allowed Lavellan to roll him over, running his hands over the elf’s slender form as he settled himself on top of the mage. He let out an unabashed moan when Lavellan rolled his hips experimentally, fingers gripping and then flexing on the other man’s hips.

Lavellan leaned down to capture Dorian’s lips, and then sat straight again, alternating between lifting and dropping his hips or rolling them, but not allowing Dorian to move on his own. Each time the mage would try, the Inquisitor would press him flat again, saying nothing in response.

The dying sunlight lit the elf in gold, his brown skin seeming to burn with light from within. Dorian thought this was what it must feel like to die in rapture; the most powerful man in Thedas, and he alone was allowed this honour. His eyes travelled over the Inquisitor’s entire body- his face, eyes closed in concentration. His lips, parted as he gasped for breath. His legs, thighs tensed as he fought to stay upright. Every bit of his lover was like the finest wine to his senses, and Dorian was helplessly intoxicated.

“Vaetu, amatus, please, let me touch you.”

Dorian rarely pleaded, too proud even with his lover, but he could tell the other man was close, and Dorian wanted to be the reason he found completion.

Lavellan, eyes half lidded, nodded, not stopping his movements, and Dorian took the elf’s cock in hand, giving firm strokes, drinking in the sharp cries that sounded in the room. His free hand sought the Inquisitor’s, and he brought the elf’s slender fingers to his mouth, kissing the knuckles.

“You’ve treated me so well, my dear heart. You’ve been so strong for me today. You can let go now. I’ll catch you.”

Dorian felt the moment the Inquisitor reached his finish, the man clenching around him so tightly it was nearly painful, warm stripes painting the Altus’ chest as he let out a single, breathless gasp. Seconds later, Dorian let out a low moan of his own, feeling his own completion rush through him. Vaetu slumped against his chest, and Dorian ran his hands down elf’s damp back, feeling it heave against his fingers, and shuddering when the elf brushed a light kiss against his neck. He waited a moment, savouring the afterglow before shifting, lifting the body on top of him with an amusedly impatient, “Up, up, let’s get this mess cleaned before it dries.”

He laughed at the irritable grumble he received from the elf, grabbing a scrap of fabric from an end table and freezing it with a quick frost spell, and then heating his hands, letting the ice melt slowly as he wiped himself and his lover down, before disposing of it.

“Are you done? Will you get back in bed now?”

Dorian allowed himself to be pulled down into the tangled sheets, Lavellan immediately curling into the other man’s side with a contented sigh.

“Please don’t scare me like that again.”

Dorian looked down at the elf, and then gave a soft smile.

“Anything you ask, amatus.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of all over the place because I stopped writing it for like a month. You can probably tell where I picked it up again because of the drastic tone shift, but I'm damn tired of seeing it in my drafts folder.
> 
> also, if i can't use an editors song as a title, i'll damn well use it as the description. the thematic naming runs deep


End file.
